I remember those red and yellow tulips my great grandmother used to plant in her yard. Among other trees and plants with beautiful blossoms. But the tulips are so deeply engraved in my mind. They're my weak spot. Their leaves and petals mesmerising. But those white ones are divine, so pure so gentle. But they don't last long, like most beautiful things.
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Slipped thoughts
SonstigesUnfiltered thoughts, depressive, happy, maybe quotes and poetry and a bit of greek stuff. Everything that goes through my mind and every feeling. A collection of everyday thoughts from someone living with bpd. Something like a personal diary. It's...
